


The Tummy Ache

by happyaspie



Series: Tony Stark is a Good Mentor [57]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Fever, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Character, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Stark Industries Gala Event, Stubborn Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, mentions of vomit, no actual vomitting though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26690122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyaspie/pseuds/happyaspie
Summary: Peter is supposed to be going to the biggest Stark Industries Gala event of the year as Tony guest and for some reason, he's really nervous about.  He doesn't even know why... but his stomach hurts, he's legs feel heavy and he just can't seem to stop shivering.It isn't until Tony points out that he may have a fever that he puts it all together.  He's sick and as if that's not bad enough, he slips up and admits to his literal hero that histummy hurts.  Tummy.  He said tummy and he may never live that down.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark is a Good Mentor [57]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1397362
Comments: 40
Kudos: 393





	The Tummy Ache

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about because I was watching that scene in FFH where MJ is questioning Peter about being spiderman. She points out that he went missing in Washington and he tells her 'No I was sick remember? I had the tummy-" but he cuts himself off after that. I was cracking up. The boy is like, sixteen-seventeen, talking to the girl he's crushing on and then, God bless him, he proceeds to tell her that he'd had _a tummy ache_ that day.😂😂😂

Peter stood in front of a full-length mirror and took a deep breath as he looked himself over. He was wearing the suit that had been involuntarily thrust upon him after a trip to a gentry shop a couple of weeks prior. Tony had said that he was going to 'look sharp' but now that he had it on, he wasn't sure that looking sharp was enough of an incentive to keep it on. The collar was tight, the cuffs felt restrictive and the jacket was suffocating. He very much preferred wearing his own more comfortable clothing. Jeans, t-shirts, and over-sized sweaters were more his style. 

As he was giving the neckband another tug in an attempt to get it to stop trying to strangle him when there came a knock at his door. "Come in," he grumbled under his breath, knowing that it was Tony coming to make sure he was staying on task and as the door cracked open he turned around to face his mentor's judgment.

"What did you do to your hair, kiddo?" Tony chuckled once he'd looked Peter up and down no less than three times. 

"I put gel in it," Peter replied, his hands instinctively moving up towards his head to make sure that his hair was still slicked back. When it didn't feel terribly out of place he checked the mirror frowning at the way his mentor was grinning at him in the background. "I was trying to make it lay flat."

Tony crossed the room and lifted a finger to the boy's head, prodding at the impenetrable shell of a hair-style before him. "Why would you murder your curls like that?" he asked with mirth but almost regretted it when Peter's shoulders dropped in defeat.

"Because I'm already going to be the youngest person there," Peter complained, "-and the stupid curls just make me look even younger. I don't want everyone thinking I'm a kid."

"First of all, you are a kid, Kid," Tony smirked. "-and second, I happen to like your curls," he intentionally cooed, catching the boy's cheek between his thumb and forefinger before he had a chance to properly dodge him. "They're endearing."

Peter swatted the man's hands away and tried to rub away the red splotch that had appeared on his face. "Endearing is definitely not the look I'm going for tonight, Mr. Stark" he grumbled through the small smile that he'd been unable to fully avoid. 

Tony smiled and ruffled Peter's hair into an unruly mess. "Why don't you go wash that out in the sink and I'll help you comb it down when you're done. That way you won't look like you fell into an entire vat of cheap hair gel," he said before noticing that his kid had his tie haphazardly tossed over his shoulder rather than knotted below his chin. "Then I can help you with that tie."

"I don't-" Peter began to protest before deciding that letting Tony do it for him would be far less frustrating than trying to watch another video. He was already slightly annoyed that he'd been asked to rewash his hair. Not because he thought he'd done a particularly good job at making it look good but because rewetting it sounded uncomfortable. Then again he'd been feeling uncomfortable since he'd gotten up that morning. 

He was meant to be attending the largest Stark Industries Charity Gala of the year as Tony's guest. He supposed that was enough to make anyone feel a little bit nervous. Then he realized he'd that he'd yet to finish his thought and his mentor was looking at him with interest. "Yeah, that would be good. Thank you, Mr. Stark," he finished, turning the corners of his lips upwards into what he hoped was an appreciative smile. Tony smiled back and left the room to wrap up getting himself ready.

The second door clicked shut Peter groaned and begrudgingly started shucking off his suit jacket and shirt so that they wouldn't get soaked when he stuck his head under the faucet. From there, he went into the bathroom to complete the task as quickly as possible, threw a towel around his shoulders, and then wandered into the living room, where the man had been waiting for him, comb and styling creme in hand.

It took some time to find a hair-style that they could both agree on, less time for Tony to get his hair into place, and the second that he had been declared presentable, Peter retreated to his room to grab his tie and dress shoes. While he was in there, he once again looked at himself in the mirror and could feel a prickle of anxiety crawl up his spine and his stomach to swirl with unease. He tried to swallow it down by telling himself that being invited was an honor and that he was going to have the pleasure of meeting some of the greatest scientific minds in the country but that didn't seem to work. 

The car ride felt like it was taking an eternity and Peter could feel himself growing more and more restless as the time passed. The goosebumps that had been periodically appearing on his arms for the last several hours had suddenly made a permanent home on his skin and his stomach was in knots. He didn't even know what he was so worked up for. He'd been fine, well, mostly fine all the way up until that morning. He just hoped that Tony didn't catch on to his discomfort but of course, he did. He always did. 

  
"You nervous, Buddy?" Tony asked, already knowing the answer. The boy had been made it very clear that while he was excited to attend and have the opportunity to meet so many renowned scientists, he was also really worried that he would say or do something that would embarrass him. Though he'd thought he'd already quelled most of that concern. Evidently, he hadn't.

Peter shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head at the same time. "Maybe a little but I don't know why," he admitted with a sigh that sounded entirely too tired for such an early hour but he couldn't help it. He'd been out patrolling way past his curfew the night before and he assumed the lack of sleep was catching up with him. "I've been looking forward to meeting people and listening to them speak. It's weird."

Tony nodded his head in understanding and gently squeezed the boy's shoulder. "If it gets to be too much we can always leave," he said in all seriousness. 

"You can't just leave because of me, Mr. Stark! It's your gala," Peter replied, unsure if he should be feeling completely mortified that the man thought that there was a chance that he couldn't handle the situation or grateful that he'd been given a way out. 

"Technically it's Pepper's gala. She planned it," Tony interjected with a smirk. He didn't actually care if all they did was walk in, grab a drink, and walk out. Large events no longer appealed to him the way they had in the past. That's why he'd invited the boy, to begin with. The hours would pass more quickly with Peter there to keep things lively. However, the longer he looked at his kid the more he started to wonder if there was more to his antsy behavior that some general nerves. Something seemed- _off_. "Seriously though, we can leave whenever you're ready," he reiterated and was at least marginally content when the teenager nodded in response.

  
As they walked into the large ballroom, Peter couldn't stop himself from smiling. He could still feel apprehension settled deep in his bones and his stomach was still doing the occasional backflip but more than anything he was excited to be there. Tony had guided him through the crowd introducing him to everyone they crossed paths with, not as his intern but as his protege instead. He'd not expected that and a sense of pride rose up within in every single time the man said it. It was amazing, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was still feeling slightly anxious but he pushed it to the back of his head in favor of enjoying his first gala.

At some point, a bunch of men and women dressed in tailcoats came out carrying trays piled high with small plates of various finger foods. Tony had taken several before he realized that Peter hadn't even had one. Finding that odd, considering his kid never missed a meal, he flagged someone down and grabbed two identical servings. "Here you go, kiddo," he said assuming that maybe the boy just feeling a little insecure about grabbing food that hadn't been outright handed to him. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"Oh, Thank you," Peter replied, taking the plate without hesitation. It hadn't occurred to him that he'd not really eaten anything since lunch and he knew he should be hungry but for some reason, he wasn't. However he didn't want to appear ungrateful, so he ate it anyway. As he did with the next plate and the five or six followed that those, until couldn't force any more down. Eventually, he had to decline.

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said as he rested his hand over his heavy stomach. "I don't think I can eat any more right now."

Tony whipped his head to the side and surveyed Peter's posture because there had never been a time when he'd eaten more than his kid before and that was worrisome. He noted immediately that the boy didn't look particularly comfortable but when he tried to question him about it, Peter blew him off saying that he'd filled up on the various drink they'd gotten from the bar when they arrived. He was convinced that wasn't true but he didn't push it. Mainly because he knew that nagging the teenager wasn't likely to get him to change his answer.

Quite a few more introductions and several speeches later, Peter realized that for some unknown reason his he could feel his anxiety rising all over again. His stomach was turning worse than before, he couldn't seem to stop shivering and he was back to shifting in his seat. 

"You okay, kiddo?" Tony whispered in his ear as they sat at one of the small tables near the stage where someone was excited explaining their latest endeavor to bring lower medical costs for those in need.

"Y-yeah," Peter replied with a strained smile. "Can I maybe go get another one of those sparkling juice things from the bar?" He really hoped that the walk to the bar would calm his nerves and that the drink would appease his roiling stomach. 

"Sure. I'll go with you," Tony replied, not really buying into the boy's casual request. Something wasn't right and he hoped that by accompanying his kid on his quest that he would be able to sort out what that something was. That in mind, he slid his chair back in order to follow but Peter was quick to stop him. 

"-You don't have to do that, Mr. Stark. I'll only be a minute," Peter promised, and while Tony did give him a skeptical look he also returned to his chair. Peter took that as a win and nonchalantly carried himself across the large room and back again, settling back into his chair with a sigh. The round trip had been oddly exhausting. 

"Are you sure, you're okay, Buddy?", Tony apprehensively inquired, when his kid returned looking a little worse for wear.

"Mmhmm. I'm sure, Mr. Stark," Peter assured as continued to take tentative sips of the cool drink he'd brought back with him. It wasn't helping as much as he'd hoped it would.

"Why don't you take that jacket off. You look like you're roasting in it," Tony suggested. He didn't think it was particularly warm in the room but the kid's cheeks were pinker than normal and a sheen of sweat had started to form on his brow. 

"I'm not roasting, Mr. Stark," Peter returned with more passion than was probably required but he was far from being hot. He was quite the opposite actually. Though that seemed to have been the wrong answer because, all at once, Tony was looking at him with uncertainty. Then to make matter worse, he was reaching across the table and placed the back of his hand on his forehead as if he were five years old. He hoped no one was looking. "Stop it, Mr. Stark. I'm fine," he said but he didn't attempt to pull away from the man's touch. Slight embarrassment aside, it felt _really nice_.

"You're warm," Tony declared sounding a little surprised and substantially worried by the observation.

"I run warm," Peter hurriedly pointed out. Though, after some thought, he was no longer certain that anxiety was the reason for his suffering. He'd never really considered that what he'd been feeling for the entirety of the day could be anything other than fretful anticipation until that very moment. Potential fever notwithstanding, he was quivering with chills, his legs felt too heavy- and then there was his tummy. _Oh God, his tummy..._ "I, um, I need to be excused. Bathroom," he said and already looking around in hopes of locating a private place to potentially empty his stomach. 

"Do you know where you're going?" Tony asked, sounding increasingly concerned.

Peter did not know where he was going but he nodded his head anyway, swallowed thickly and then calmly walked off towards the lobby where, to his displeasure, he found no available single-use bathrooms. However, he wasn't really sure that he had time to go searching for another option so he went ahead and entered the large, luxurious men's room where he locked himself in the furthest stall from the door. 

For a while, Peter leaned the majority of his weight onto the wall and took steady breaths in and out of his nose. He could hear all of the other men coming and going. Toilets flushing, water running, and the rustling of paper towels but he had no idea how much time had actually passed before he heard the sound of Tony's familiar voice calling his name. "Just a second," he breathily replied, taking a few seconds to get himself together before exiting the stall.

"You've been in here for a long time, Kiddo," Tony murmured as he looked at the boy's suddenly too pale complexion. "I wanted to come and check on you."

Peter very much wanted to say that checking on him wasn't necessary but he couldn't seem to find the energy get the words out. Instead, he rested his head on Tony's chest, savoring the way a hand instantly went to the back of his head. 

"You don't feel good, do you," Tony stated more so than questioned and was unsurprised when Peter shook his head against his chest. Then, with a long-drawn-out sigh, he began to gently rub the boy's back. He'd known that something was wrong for the majority of the evening. There just wasn't much he could do about it when the teenager was continuously insisting that he was okay. He was relieved to finally be able to comfort his kid. "Did you throw up?"

"No," Peter replied followed by a small sniffle as he tried to keep the tears at bay. Not what he'd admitted that he was sick it was a thousand times harder to keep himself from falling apart. You would have thought that his spider DNA would have prevented him from getting sick at all but it didn't. Not completely anyway. He felt just as terrible as everyone else, only for a shorter amount of time.

"Are you _going_ to throw up?" Tony asked next because the kid had been in the bathroom for upwards to twenty minutes already. Though supposed that he didn't really want to guess what he'd been doing in there for all that time. 

"I dunno," Peter replied causing Tony to let go of him. He whined a little at the loss of contact and watched as the man dug around under the polished counters until he found a small trashcan liner to shove into his pocket. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," he whispered as he ran his hands down his face and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Buddy. I just wish you would have said something earlier," Tony replied, placing a comforting hand on his kid's shoulder. "How about we pack it up and get out of here."

Peter leaned into the man's side and nodded his head. As much as he wished that they didn't have to leave, especially on his account, he wanted nothing more than to climb into his own bed and go to sleep. "Yeah. That would be good."

Once they were settled in the car Peter's eyes began to water all over again. The fever was making him overly emotional and he felt awful. The guilt that was creeping in wasn't helping. He should have known that he was sick. If he had, he could have stayed home, and then he wouldn't have been the reason that Tony had to leave the gala so early.

Tony noticed the tear tracks shimmering in the light that was filtering through the tinted glass window and offered a sympathetic smile. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Kiddo. Come here," he said as he guided Peter's head onto his lap. He could feel the heat radiating off of him and through his pants. It was practically burning his thigh. "We really need to get some fever reducers in you," he mused, running his fingers through his kid's hair, pausing when he heard a quiet whimper. "You doing okay?" he asked already preparing himself to pull the bag he'd carried with them, out of his pocket.

Without a second thought, Peter curled his knees up to his chest and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm just tired and my tummy hurts," he mumbled, not really registering that he's used such a childish word in Tony's presence. It was just that he felt utterly horrible and even though he was nearing sixteen, he'd never really stopped using that particular phrase when he was sick. Not around his aunt anyway and that was probably part of the problem. He felt just as comfortable and safe with Tony as he did with May. It had just- _slipped out_.

The car remained silent for a few seconds before Tony finally let out a huffed laugh. "Did you just say _tummy_?" he asked, a smirk still playing at his lips.

"Maybe," Peter grumbled into his mentor's thigh but he didn't think too much of it until Tony laughed outright. At which point, he looked up the man's still smiling face and pouted. "That's not fair. You can't make fun of me while I'm sick, Mr. stark," he pathetically complained. 

"You're right. I'm sorry", Tony replied, biting his lip in an attempt to suppress another wave of giggles. Then he looked down at the ailing teenager and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

Peter would have been shocked by the parental action had he not already fallen into a light sleep.

__________

Two weeks had passed and nothing was ever mentioned about unexpectedly early exit from the gala, the miserable ride home, or the vomit that may or may not have had ended up on the penthouse carpet. He'd gone home at the end of the weekend already feeling better and that was that. It was as if the entire incident had been completely forgotten. _-Until it wasn't._

  
It was Saturday night and Peter and Tony were both knee-deep in a project that they'd started earlier in the week. It was so close to completion that they'd ended up losing track of the time completely. 

Tony noticed the hour before Peter did and cringed. "Shoot, it's almost nine!" he shouted when the time appeared in the corner of his screen, reminding him that he had an enhanced teenager that needed to be fed regularly. "I bet you're starving huh, kiddo."

After pausing in his ministrations, Peter stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "I could definitely eat," he said. Then as he was saving his work, his stomach decided to prove the point by complaining loudly enough to be heard across the room.

Tony grinned and crossed the distance between them. "Was that _your tummy_?" he asked with absolute glee.

Having not been prepared for _that_ to be brought up again, _ever_ , Peter dropped his head down onto the desk, knocking several tools onto the floor in the process. He should have known that Tony would bring it up eventually. The man took entirely too much pleasure is messing with him to drop it entirely. After a few seconds, he groaned and turned his head to the side. As expected, his mentor was still smiling at him. "You're never letting that go, are you," he practically whined.

Tony nodded his head and continued to giggle before placing his hand firmly on his kid's back. "Not a chance, Kiddo. Not a chance."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Come hang out with me on [tumblr!](https://yes-i-am-happyaspie.tumblr.com%22)


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